You know that cute way bugs wave their front legs looking for the next leaf to walk on I'm doing that to cute transgenders on this website
bug 2 bug communication......... :3

if i look back, i am lost

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@wormn0ra
You know that cute way bugs wave their front legs looking for the next leaf to walk on I'm doing that to cute transgenders on this website
bug 2 bug communication......... :3
Nobody wants to tell you about the downsides of going on estrogen and becoming a curvy tmilf, but somebody has to, so I'm going to: After you take a shower you're gonna have to lift your boobs to dry off the spot underneath them. It doesn't take very long, but it is still an extra step and imo showering was already such an ordeal.
If you already have boobs though? May as well go on estrogen. The gynecomastic boy to happy tgirl pipeline is well established. It happened to me, so it can happen to you.
insane how many of you will just assume that a trans woman has a penis, and that it wouldn't be something she might have any dysphoria about
i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isn’t even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isn’t just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also haven’t picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you can’t tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you weren’t crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you aren’t supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i haven’t forgotten. what i’m saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know it’s hard, but you have to listen. i’m saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, i’m not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. i’ll be waiting for you.
and when the train is coming - please move.
trans girls are really good at hugging… you should hug one and feel it yourself!
Per @spoonstrek
im a girl
gays dress like everyone from Jurassic Park tbh
getting really close to breaking an eggs shell like
they should pay trans women to hang out and smoke weed
As sure as the setting sun
You had to go away
While I missed the light you gave me
As the night began to grow cold
I saw your light as stars in the sky
Your beauty reflected in the moon
I can wait for when you return
As sure as the sun will rise
How tagg sees the undersiders
It sucks than you can never tell whether youre changing as a person or going through an episode. I guess it doesnt reeeally matter in the end though
Honestly nothing better than melting a girl into a moldable pet-like state with unconditional love and kindness
his frog was getting nasty from chewing and I had to put it in the laundry. happy reunion after 90 sad and lonely minutes without #myfrog
[ID: A black cat laying contentedly on a frog plush]
@headful-of-worms @wormn0ra my fellow tumblrinas with worms in their heads :)
i contain multitudes. i want women to be nice to me And i want women to be mean to me.